


Through His Eyes

by lionessvalenti



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal paints Sara after she leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through His Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a drabble challenge (300 words or less, where, of course, I used all the words), and my prompt was "Eyes".

Neal hesitated, the tip of the paintbrush just out of the reach of the canvas. He could perfect the strokes and techniques of the masters, imitate them, but it wasn't often that he created something that was truly his. Original.

The face on the canvas had been nearly filled. The cheeks were hinted with the suggestion of a blush, the lips, full and red, and all that was left were the eyes. They needed to be so many things. An expression that was truly worth a thousand words, and more, if he could be so cliché.

Neal didn't want anyone to know how much Sara's leaving changed him, or how lonely he was now. Not when there were so many things going on that were considerably more important, but he still had to come home to his empty bed at night.

He thought of Sara's eyes when they were together in his bed, sensual and mischievous before she slid her hand down the front of his pajama bottoms. Bright and happy when he would surprise her with dessert after they'd gone out to dinner. Suspicious, but not completely displeased, as they sat on the roof of the Federal building eating Chinese food, swapping their fortunes.

Who knew their fortunes would lead them here? Well, she did. Moving onward and upward had always been her plan. Neal couldn't move, not until he was free from his anklet. But maybe she hadn't known how hard it would be to leave.

He didn't want for it be hard. Neal wanted her to have what she wanted, and that was the job in London. He was happy for her.

As he painted in the eyes, beautiful mossy green, she looked sad, and then he knew. He wasn't painting her, not really. It was him.


End file.
